My Son's Friend Was So Small
Late afternoon in early summer, on the third floor of a villa on the outskirts of Seoul.
I'm Kim Harin — not that I'm bragging, but? I'm a single mother raising my son on my own. Also a former track-and-field athlete, and none other than a gold medalist! Ahem. Elite, thank you very much.
Anyway, there I was in my usual peaceful daily life, taking my sweet time with the housework as always — when it happened. The front door creaked open and my son walked in.
"...Mom, I'm home."
"Oh my, Minho, welcome home...?"
"S-so, um... I brought a friend with me..."
Standing beside my son — who'd inherited the elite genetics of a man towering well over 190 cm — was a noticeably tiny figure. The boy barely came up to Minho's waist. Slicked-back hair, round glasses... a full-grown man, and yet?
Eh? He was unbelievably baby-faced.
"Hello, ma'am. I'm Geum Taeyang, Minho's friend."
Ooh, well now. For all his small frame, his crisp enunciation and polite smile made quite the impression.
....
Of course, where my naive eyes saw only a sweet, well-mannered boy, Taeyang's eyes — like some rutting male in heat — drank me in, every inch of the female standing before him.
A tall, solid frame that rivaled even Minho's. Short-cropped boyish black hair paired with healthily tanned skin. A white t-shirt stretched naturally over soft, springy flesh, tracing the curve of her full chest, and beneath a pair of blue hot pants stretched a set of long legs that bore the unmistakable mark of a former athlete. A face you'd never believe belonged to the mother of a college kid — pass her off as a student herself and not a soul would doubt it.
....
"Ah — Minho talks about you a lot, ma'am. I've been hoping to meet you."
"Oh my, has he now?"
The way Taeyang bowed politely at the waist was the picture of a model student.
"Mom, Taeyang's in my department... s-so we came to, um... work on our group project..."
What a contrast, honestly... For all his model-student demeanor, my son Minho has exactly one flaw: for all that huge frame of his, the boy never did learn to raise his voice in front of other people.
Watching him flounder, Taeyang gave his arm a friendly little pat.
"Whoa whoa, you smell amazing, Minho~ Your mom's a great cook, huh?"
Goodness. My son brought home such a genuinely well-mannered friend — ohohoho! Kids these days, honestly.
"Taeyang, sweetie, staying for dinner? I'll whip something up right away."
"Oh — no, ma'am, we barged in unannounced, I couldn't possibly put you out with a meal too..."
"Taeyang, eat first. We can work after."
"....."
Taeyang pretended to deliberate for a moment, then broke into a bright smile.
"Ahaha, well... if you insist that much... then I'll gratefully impose, ma'am. Is there anything I can help with?"
Somehow, before I knew it, Taeyang had borrowed a pair of slippers like he owned the place and followed me toward the kitchen. Maybe it was that signature tiny frame of his, but standing side by side with me, he looked like a little kid.
He really is a baby-face, isn't he. How on earth is this... a college student?
Taeyang stood in front of the sink, craning his head way up at me.
"Shall I get the plates out? Where do you keep them?"
"Hm?"
"Taeyang, sit down. You're a guest."
My son — ever mindful of his guest — got up from the sofa to follow us into the kitchen and — whack! — smacked his knee right on the corner of the table.
"Hey, watch yourself, kiddo. Sit down, I loosen up once I get moving anyway."
"Owww! O-okay?"
That boy's always hurting himself... Honestly.
"Ma'am, ma'am. You're seriously so young, though. Really pretty~"
"Mmhm?"
Taeyang's eyes lingered on my face, gauging my reaction — then, just as smoothly: "Ah, my apologies. If that came across as rude, I'm sorry."
A cheeky little apology, calibrated to carry exactly the right amount of regret — not too much, not too little — engineered so precisely that the other person had no choice but to wave it off and say, oh, don't worry about it~
"Taeyang's always a bit like that... i-it's... he doesn't mean anything by it, Mom."
"Oh, it's fine! Totally fine!! Doesn't bother me one bit. Now come on, let's eat before it gets cold."
"Yes, ma'am."
....
Before long, the table was laden with soybean paste stew, rolled omelet, seasoned spinach, and a pot of freshly steamed rice. Three people who might almost have passed for a family gathered around the narrow dining table. My son's friend sat directly across from me, beside Minho.
Munch munch, slurp slurp.
"Wow, this is incredible. Minho's mom, you could — you could totally open a restaurant with this."
"Oh my, listen to you! Thank you, sweetie. My, but you really do enjoy your food, don't you, Taeyang?"
"Ahah, I do! Of course~ Mmm — *shlurp*♡ — it's just so good."
Despite his tiny mouth, Taeyang ate briskly and without pause, spoon never idle. The way he popped a piece of rolled omelet into his mouth and sighed in genuine wonder almost seemed sincere.
"...Taeyang lives on his own, Mom," Minho added quietly, when I wondered aloud why the boy ate like every meal was a gift from heaven.
"On his own...?"
"Ah, yes... it's just, I eat convenience store food and cup ramen every day, so having a real home-cooked meal like this almost brings me to tears. Honestly."
"Oh, you poor thing... eat up, Taeyang, eat as much as you like—!"
"Oh — yes, ma'am?"
Slurp, munch.
We were just past the halfway point of the meal when — "Ah!" — Taeyang's spoon slipped from his hand and clattered deliberately to the floor. He flung his hand out in theatrical surprise, but the spoon had already landed at my feet.
"I'm so sorry, ma'am. I'll pick it up—"
In the instant he moved to rise — "I'll get it for you" — I leaned forward first.
Naturally, my white t-shirt sagged forward with gravity as I bent down, and from that angle, the treasure some would call insanely massive tits — an absolutely breathtaking view — came into plain sight.
And in that exact moment, as if he'd been waiting for it, Taeyang froze — still seated, head tilted ever so slightly to one side.
Half a second.
One second.
One and a half seconds.
Barely a whisper: "...Fucking huge."
....
"Here you go, Taeyang."
"Oh! Thank you, ma'am. I'll go rinse it off."
Pad, pad — his little footsteps off to the kitchen.
"Mom, Taeyang's always a little clumsy like that."
"Seems that way. Minho, take good care of him, okay?"
"Yeah!"
Tick, tock.
When dinner was over, Taeyang insisted on gathering up the empty dishes himself.
"Hey, leave it. I'll do it."
"Minho, if someone feeds you, the least you can do is wash the dishes. Ma'am, where do you keep the sponge?"
"Oh no, sweetie, I've got it—"
"It's fine, ma'am~ I'll handle it. Go relax on the sofa. Minho, you head in and get started on the project."
He really is a model student...
"...Okay then, Taeyang. Say something if it's too much?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Taeyang, hurry up."
"Yeah, right behind you."
And so Minho disappeared into his room while Taeyang started on the dishes. I felt a little odd about it, somehow — like I'd put my son's friend to work like some kind of servant.
Splashhh, scrub scrub scrub.
Before long, Taeyang rinsed the last plate, turned around, and looked over at me sitting on the living room sofa.
"Ma'am?"
"Mm?"
"Would it be all right if I came by often? Minho and I are in the same group for the whole semester."
"My studio's way too cramped for the two of us to work in. Not that Minho's room is exactly spacious either..."
Taeyang trailed off, then smiled a little.
"I'll buy my own food when I come. Imposing on you like today would be a bit much. Ehehe."
"Oh, don't be silly, Taeyang. Come over any time you like~"
"Really? Yes! Thank you so much, ma'am."
The model student gave a friendly little bow, then headed straight down the hall toward Minho's room.
"Thank you so much for today, ma'am."
Heh heh — what a lovely boy...!
....
Plenty of time passed after that. It was already past ten at night when Taeyang bowed his head once more at the front door.
"I'll come again. See you tomorrow, Minho."
"Get home safe, sweetie~"
"...Yeah. Take care."
Thud — the front door closed.
"Mom... is Taeyang okay? He's not a bad guy or anything."
Hm?
My son, apparently... was still hung up on the way Taeyang had been a little forward with me earlier — the you're seriously so young comment.
Kids, honestly. Getting worked up over nothing~♡ Adorable...
I flashed my son a quick, reassuring smile.
"I know! Heh heh, our Minho should make lots of friends like Taeyang, all right?"
"Yes, Mom."
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